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1875–1928

The Vassal

Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

WIND of the North, O far, wild wind Born of a far, lone sea — When suns are soft and breezes kind Why are you kin to me?

Uncounted years above the sea, Rock-fortressed from its rage, The fishermen, your fathers, kept A barren heritage —

Grim as the sea they forced to pay The sea-toll of their wage. And lo! The fate which made you hers And gave you of her best

And set you in a sunny place, Down-sloping to the West, Forgot to change your fisher's heart Serf to the sea's unrest!

Wind of the North! O bitter wind, I hear the wild seas fret — In the dim spaces of the mind They claim me vassal yet!

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The Vassal · Isabel Ecclestone Mackay · Poetry Cove